God Take Me Because I Hate Me
by supercellchaser
Summary: "Sam Winchester strove for redemption in every aspect of his life. He prayed nearly constantly for God's forgiveness but he was beginning to believe that he didn't deserve it." Sam/Castiel H/C Angst.


Disclaimer: Not mine. Nevah!

Why do I insist on writing while in class? I should be listening to the lectures but…

Reviews lead to more Sastiel!

Btw in my quest to educate people on good music, if you would happen to Youtube the two songs in this fic, you will be happy…or it will scare you. lol

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"_Cut open this heart._

_Now steal away my last real beat of hope, and forget what has happened._

_Remind me of living, and the lack of blood that brings me to my knees._

_Now lie, lie._

_Look me in my eyes and tell me I'm living now…_

_Slowly one by one, the leaves begin to bury my head._

_I've realized, this one thing as you watch me fade…_

_Hold this wound and pray for the strength to let me float away._

_For what lies ahead is hope…_

_This will take my all. This will take my all._

_Your eyes, they tell me, as I drift away."_

Kiss The Envelope-This Runs Through

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Sam Winchester strove for redemption in every aspect of his life. He prayed nearly constantly for God's forgiveness but he was beginning to believe that he didn't deserve it. He had begun to believe that maybe some light could be seen at the end of the bleak and gloomy tunnel but after the disaster with Famine…he couldn't bring himself to believe anymore.

No matter how many times Dean and Bobby attempted to console him, to tell him it wasn't his fault, he could see the disappointment in their eyes. They, as he was, were losing faith.

Sam had always been defined by his faith. He had always sought forgiveness, he still did, but as things steadily progressed downhill, Sam began to believe that the redemption he sought was lost and never to be found.

He didn't resent his inability to receive forgiveness, he understood. After what he had done, after the sins he had committed, he didn't believe he was able to achieve what he sought. It didn't stop him from trying, though. In his opinion, whether or not he was worthy of redemption, he would not stop trying. He would not go down without knowing that he tried as hard as he possibly could.

He knew he was wearing himself thin but he couldn't bring himself to care. The harder he worked, the harder he tried, the closer he got to redemption. If he was so far gone he could not receive it, at least he would be closer than where he was now.

So he threw himself into every hunt. Giving it his all, sometimes more. He would prove to Dean, prove to Bobby, prove to Castiel, prove to himself, that he wasn't the monster that spent his time drinking demon blood.

The disaster with Famine left Sam weary. After being once again captive in the panic room, his own living Hell, he threw ever ounce of his strength into bettering himself. He would not go down as a failure.

Dean seemed worried but his own weariness was holding him back, drawing his attention away from desperately ailing brother. Dean didn't notice Sam tearing himself apart and for that Sam was grateful. The last thing Dean needed was more worry.

"_Sammy?" Dean's voice was gentle and laced with worry. Sam lay curled in a fetal position against the wall in the corner of the panic room._ _His sweat drenched hair lay plastered to his forehead and soft tremors worked their way through his feverish body. He had been silent for a while and he decided Sam was well enough for Dean to go get him. Castiel watched silently from the door._

_Dean placed his hand gently on Sam's shoulder only to have Sam jerk away from him and scramble along the wall in an attempt to escape his brother's touch. Sam stopped and buried his head into his knees, his breathing ragged. _

"_Please leave me alone." Sam whispered, his voice raspy from hours of screaming. He wanted nothing more than for Dean to lock the door and never come back. He hated himself more than he had ever thought possible. He was a disgrace and almost wished the withdrawal would have killed him. _

"_Sammy…" Dean whispered reaching for Sam again, tears in his eyes._

_Sam only jerked away again, turning himself into the wall. Dean looked helplessly to Castiel. He wasn't good at this, Castiel was._

_Castiel immediately was at Sam's side, squatting down next to the trembling man. Castiel gripped Sam's pale, drawn face in his hands, simply staring into Sam's eyes, a small smile on his face._

_There was so much in that simple smile. Understanding, forgiveness, love. Sam crumbled, tears falling freely and sank into Castiel's embrace, allowing himself to be comforted._

After that Sam had shut down. The worry Dean expressed that day was too much for Sam. Dean didn't deserve to have to worry like that. Sam went on his life as if everything was okay. He wouldn't let Dean see his pain, see his weakness. He would fight to become the strong willed person Dean deserved to have as a brother.

Dean was weary too. Too weary to see past Sam's façade. Too weary to notice Sam tearing himself apart day by day. Sam didn't resent that. He was the one that put the fake smiles on, the one that acted as if he was okay.

Castiel saw through Sam's fake smiles, of that Sam was sure, but he had yet to comment on it. Sam hoped he never did. Sam knew he could talk to Castiel but there just wasn't time. He didn't have time to vent his emotions to Castiel, he had to work on fixing what he had destroyed.

So Sam threw himself into everything he did at one hundred and fifty percent. He never backed down, never gave up. He denied himself basic necessities like sleep and food because there just wasn't time for those things. He spent hours at a time hunched over his laptop looking for something, anything, that would lead to Lucifer. Something that could kill the Devil.

When sleep did find Sam, it was uneasy. Occupied by nightmares of losing the ones he loved because of his own weakness. So, Sam found it easier to just not sleep as often as he could. He downed energy drinks like water, fighting to keep his eyes open. He didn't have time to sleep. Not when his world was crumbling down around him.

So he continued to deny himself necessities, continued to drink energy drinks that left him wide eyed and shaky.

After a while of putting nearly nothing into his body except energy drinks, Sam's weakened body began to repel the unhealthy drinks. Night after night, Sam found himself in the bathroom purging the acidy beverages only to wash out his mouth and return to his computer and opening another.

He made sure Dean didn't know because Dean had enough to worry about. So Sam kept quiet. Quiet, though, may have worked with Dean, but it didn't work with Castiel.

One night when Sam, once again, found himself leaned over the toilet, he was surprised to feel a hand gently run up his back and come to rest on his forehead where it held back his long hair.

Sam continued to heave until there was no more to purge. Composing himself, he turned around to meet Castiel's light blue eyes. Castiel pulled Sam against him, pressing Sam's head against his shoulder as Sam trembled in his grip.

"You are wearing yourself thin, Sam." Castiel murmured into Sam's hair. "This must stop."

Sam took a deep breath before replying. "I…I just don't know what else to do. I've messed up so much and I have to fix it. There is no time to rest."

"What do you have to fix, Sam?" Castiel asked, still speaking into Sam's hair.

Sam was dumbfounded. How could Castiel not know? Pulling himself away from Castiel, Sam's voice began to rise.

"Everything!" He cried. "I've messed everything up and if I stop, if I take a moment to relax, I'll just be farther from redeeming myself! After everything I've done, the last thing I deserve is to relax."

"You do not believe that you deserve redemption?"

"No! I don't, but I'm going to get as close as I can. I'm going to fight and I'm going to get as close to making you and Dean proud as I can."

"What makes you think I am not proud of you, Sam?" Castiel whispered. That Dean is not proud."

Sam's jaw dropped. "What do you mean? How can you not see it? After everything I've done, after how many times I've let Dean and you down…" He trailed off, tears rising in his eyes.

Castiel pulled Sam away from him and held his face firmly in his hands. "All I hear is the bad you have done but I hear nothing of the good. You do not believe that you have redeemed yourself?"

"No!" Sam yelled. "I couldn't even stay away from demon blood! How can someone so weak be redeemed?"

"You are not to blame for what happened with Famine."

"Yes I am." Sam whispered. "I have to fix what I've done."

"How can you fix something that is beyond your control? Even I could not resist Famine's holds."

"It's not the same." Sam said dejectedly. "Eating burgers is not the same as what I did. Dean will never forgive me for going back like that."

"Dean holds no anger for you."

"That's not true." Sam alleged. "I can see it in his face. He's disappointed and the only way I can regain even a fraction of his belief in me is to defeat Lucifer and I can't defeat Lucifer unless I push myself."

"You are pushing yourself too far."

"There is no way I can push myself too far. The only way I can receive forgiveness is to push myself as far as I can go."

"In your current state a simple hunt could prove fatal. Is that what you want?"

"If it happens, so be it, but I will not go down without knowing that I tried as hard as I possibly could."

Castiel paused for a moment, blinking a few times before crushing Sam in a back breaking hug.

Sam could feel his resolve cracking as Castiel expressed so much love. He didn't want to break down, he didn't have time for that.

"Your faith is inspiring, Samuel." Castiel whispered. "But I will not allow you to continue in this way. You will rest, and you will eat. There will be no exceptions."

Sam opened his mouth to retort but the look in Castiel's brilliant blue eyes effectively silenced him and he allowed Castiel to cradle him in his capable arms.

This wasn't over. Sam didn't forgive himself and did not feel as though he deserved redemption but his weakened spirit was demanding a break, however short that may be. Sam wasn't done, he still had much work to do but for the time being he would allow himself a break. As he relaxed against his angel, he allowed sleep to find him.

"_So cry yourself to sleep._

_This is about broken hearts. This is about me._

_Bending again, for nothing. Nothing…_

_I'm coming home, but I'll be late…_

_What is faith if I can't believe? It's everything, a cure, but I make it a disease._

_God take me because I hate me."_

Alone In December- Underoath.


End file.
